


waiting for whatever comes your way

by flyingthesky



Series: Tabooverse [3]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Furry, M/M, Patrick is Technically underage, and Pete is not, if you're the kind of person who cares about that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-03
Updated: 2011-09-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21526927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingthesky/pseuds/flyingthesky
Summary: "You never told me what you're into," Patrick says, "and I think it's cute how you think I'm a delicate flower or something, but I've had sex before."
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Series: Tabooverse [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1549138





	waiting for whatever comes your way

Patrick's getting frustrated with the guitar in his hands and he decides that it's better to just set it aside and try to breathe instead of potentially hurting the guitar. It's an expensive piece of equipment and as much as Pete has attached himself to Patrick like a growing parasite, Patrick doesn't think Pete will be particularly pleased if Patrick busts one of the guitar's strings. Glancing over at Pete, who's absently strumming at the bass in his hands, Patrick sets the guitar aside.

"You never told me what you're into," Patrick says, "and I think it's cute how you think I'm a delicate flower or something, but I've had sex before."

"I did tell you," Pete says as he lifts the bass away from his body and sets it aside, "I'm into music."

"Not like that." Patrick sighs. "I mean what you're _into_."

Over the past couple of weeks, Patrick's gotten to know Pete pretty well. He's loud, abrasive, and unafraid of anything. When he met Patrick's parents, he'd just shook their hands and turned his charm up to eleven. Patrick's parents liked Pete well enough, although Patrick's father had given him a lecture about May-December relationships. That's why, when Pete looks away from Patrick, staring the the bass he's left at his side, it throws Patrick for a loop. He knows Pete gets into _moods_ sometimes, but they're usually not so sudden and this worries Patrick. Crossing the distance between them, Patrick sits down next to Pete and bumps their shoulders together.

"I promise I won't laugh, even if you're into like, holding hands or something dumb like that."

"It's not that." Pete shakes his head. "It's just that. Look, are you sure?"  
"I joined your band," Patrick says gently, "I think I can handle fucking you."

There's a silence, the kind that's difficult to break, and then Pete shifts so he's in Patrick's lap. He's holding Patrick's face in his hands, staring intently into Patrick's eyes.

"I'm a furry. I know, it's like the laughingstock of kinks and I know you're probably going to start making jokes any moment now but—"

"Hey." Patrick presses their lips together, quieting Pete before he pulls away. "I promised not to laugh and I won't. I just don't know that much about furries. You gonna teach me?"

Instead of answering, Pete just presses their lips together again. Patrick lets it happen, aware that this isn't something he should push, and they make out for a while before Pete pulls away and stands up. Patrick waits, unsure of what's about to happen, and then Pete holds out his hand for Patrick to take, which he does. They're walking through the house, toward Pete's room, and the tiny thrill in Patrick reminds him what he _did_ find enjoyable about sex. He's never been in Pete's room before, and as soon as they enter it, Patrick sees why.

Pete doesn't have an actual bed, he's just got a nest of pillows and blankets. There's also a bare mattress in the corner, although it doesn't look like it's used often. Most of the things in the room, if Patrick didn't know better, would indicate signs of a very spoiled dog. He can see just a glimpse of some kind of suit in Pete's closet, and huh. Of all the things that Patrick was expecting the first time he shacked up with Pete, this falls on the "huh, okay then" end of the spectrum.

It's not like it's weird, Patrick just expected Pete to be into something like leaving marks or rough sex, like Joe. Thinking on it, though, Patrick realizes it was probably stupid to expect anything normal from Pete. He was a fucking _musician_ , and while Patrick had met some pretty normal musicians through Pete, most of them are a little off somehow. Pete's just about the most off you can get, and yeah. Yeah, this fits.

There's a sort of nervous energy about Pete, though, so Patrick squeezes his hand and smiles at him. Something in Pete seems to relax at that, which makes something in Patrick relax too. Pete bumps his nose to Patrick's cheek and nuzzles it before letting Patrick's fingers fall from his.

"I'll be right back."

Walking towards the closet, Pete grabs something out of it and disappears into the bathroom just outside in the hall. Unsure of what to do, Patrick sits down on the floor in the middle-ish of Pete's room, next to the nest of blankets and pillows. Pete returns a little while later, though Patrick can tell that his slipped fully into whatever headspace he gets into for this. He's on all fours and dressed in the suit, and he bounds over to Patrick, pushing him back and licking his nose. Patrick laughs, running his fingers down Pete's head like he might on an actual dog. The part of him that had been apprehensive and a little worried about this fades away and he finds it _easy_.

They don't fuck, the first time. Patrick can tell that it's mostly Pete's way of acclimating Patrick to what he's in for, and Patrick appreciates that. It's not that he's adverse to it, just that it's so unlike anything he's done before that he's a little lost at first and Pete can't explain it in words. There are some things he can explain in words, and when they're sitting in Pete's living room, Pete sometimes tell Patrick little things over the strum of the guitars. Mostly, though, Patrick learns through trial and error.

Patrick supposes that's not so different from any other things he's had to do, and he's not a slow learner so there are only a few missteps that he's quick to correct. It's weird, he thinks, how nothing had really clicked with him before and now there's this, where everything seems to fall into place like it's always belong there. It doesn't fill the void in him that playing music does, but it fills a void all the same and Patrick's grateful for that.

He's spent long enough not knowing how to define himself.


End file.
